Cookies N' Cream
by DrWorm and Psycho B
Summary: Lance/Pietro SLASH. There's cookies... but no milk. Tread lightly. Brought to you by the good folks down at DW&PB, Inc.


A/N:

            RPG between DrWorm and myself.  An attempt to put a plot of sorts to our usually pointless sex scenes… .  Heh heh heh.  Heh. 

            Lance = Psycho B, Pietro = DrWorm.  

Disclaimer:  Yeah, we DO own X-Men: Evolution!  Just so you know.  ::nods::

**Cookies N' Cream**

By: DrWorm & Psychodelic Barfly

"Pietro, why didn't you tell me we were outta milk again?" Lance yelled, his question largely contained by the chilled walls of the refrigerator as he dug around in search of edibles. 

"Is it my job?" Pietro shouted from the living room, not looking up from his book. "Am I your milk-bitch? Check it your own damn self if you're so concerned..." 

Lance walked in with a plateful of cookies and yanked Pietro's legs up to clear himself a place on the couch to sit. "Well, blondie, if you'dve let me know we were out of milk, this'd be a lot more satisfying." He peered at Pietro, who was apparently attempting to contain himself and not attack the cookies. 

Pietro smoothed his hair back in an attempt to regain his dignity and stared haughtily at the plate of cookies Lance held. "You could always go out and get some milk, if you want it that badly," he sniffed. 

Shrugging, he just sat back, the plateful of tempting treats settled on the cushion beside him, out of Pietro's reach unless he wanted to climb over him to grab at the sugary globs. Either way, Lance figured, was fine: he'd either have Pietro's pretty little ass in his face when he went for the cookies, and possibly more, or an entire batch of fresh, hot, gooey, delectable-- "I can take it without milk." 

"Hmmph." Pietro sank primly back into the cushions, pulling his knees up below his chin. He pretended to go back to his book, but the smell of cookies was awfully tempting. He lifted his eyes momentarily to see Lance licking a smudge of gooey chocolate off of his fingertip. 

"Yep... no milk whatsoever." He licked his finger lengthwise, his eyes targeting in on Pietro's hungry gaze with wicked spite. "And all for me..." he popped his entire finger into his mouth now, sucking on the digit as if it were a small prick. _He's gonna cave, I know it!_

Pietro shifted his hips slightly as he watched Lance's tongue flick over the tip of his own finger. _That bastard... he's doing this on purpose... I'm gonna kill him!_ He found himself licking his lips inadvertently as Lance chose a second cookie from the pile. 

"And even though I don't need milk, you know, I'd be more than willing to share with anyone who happened to run out and buy some," he said, biting slowly into the second cookie. He purposely avoided Pietro's hot gaze as he continued chewing at a leisurely pace. 

Pietro forced his eyes to go back to the pages of his book. _Must... not... cave... damn him!_ Pietro found his mind wandering toward the avenues of revenge. _This is a challenge. Yes. I will not give in. I'll get even._

"How's the book?" Lance queried, happy to see Pietro's head snap up in startlement. _Soon, he will give in... he will, even if it IS a challenge! There are sugary byproducts just waiting for him if he does!_

"Uh..." Lance happened to have a tiny smear of chocolate right... above... his upper lip. Pietro felt his resolve begin to sweat in blind panic. "It's... um..." He glanced down at the cover to remind himself what it was he was reading. "It's Brave New World." He replied blandly. "And it's weird." 

"Is it? How's it weird?" he asked, placing a bitten corner of his snack in his mouth, trying purposely to look like a porn starlet trying out for her first big role. _Niiiiice and slow, he'll give in, he WILL give in.... _

"It's... it's..." Pietro felt his eyes beginning to water. _No, no, no... how'd he get to be so fucking sexy! Aiigh! Gonna kill him. Gonna fuck him. Gonna do it in the opposite order._ "It's set in the future and... and they manufacture people and there are higher class people and lower class people... and, like, Alphas and Omegas and stuff. And, um... they worship Henry Ford and use subliminal suggestions in pretty much everything and people go around and have sex... a lot... of sex. Uhh..." Pietro knew he wasn't making much sense, but he didn't much care. 

"Really? How much sex do they have?" he asked further, still munching and now, peering in a disinterested manner toward the television, which had been set to "Skinemax" for the evening's entertainment. _Oh yeah, baby, no one can resist with the soft-core porn blaring in the background! Hmm, why the hell would that balding, middle-aged man find his secretary so attracti-- oh yeah, that could be why!_ He cheered the cheesy movie on, wishing he could get Pietro into some type of secretary's outfit... 

Pietro's eyes drifted over to the TV set, and he watched as a blonde bimbo popped her tits out of a tiny black bra. "A pretty fair amount..." he breathed, "Of sex..." His eyes went back to Lance, who was pulling apart his third cookie and dividing his attention between the television and Pietro. "It's not... too explicit, though. Not like some of the other books..." Pietro drifted off as his cheeks went slightly red. 

"What others...?" he said quietly, calculating Pietro's responses and coming up with a grand total of horny!boy and almost-ready-to-go-out-and-pick-up-milk-now. "Have you been reading Penthouse Letters again?" he teased, turning back to the tawdry scene on the telly. 

"No... no... it's not like that. It's literary sex." He waved a hand in the air vaguely. "In the books for English class." While Lance watched the television, Pietro watched Lance. He knew full well that Lance was in general English, while he was in advanced... and that Lance probably had yet to read any of the books Pietro had. Which made it... almost naughtier. Pietro shuddered and ran his fingers through his hair to try to disguise his pleasure. 

Lance wished desperately for telepathy at that moment... he wanted to know just what was streaming through that beautifully wrinkled little brain of Pietro's as he sat and made offhand comments; using his haughty manner and intelligence to act superior and dodge the implied questions Lance threw at him. Lance couldn't stand the waiting any longer. But he would stand it, just the same. But he didn't like it. He pouted to himself. _This'd better turn out well_, he thought, _Or else Pietro's gonna be thrown over the back of this couch in about two minutes..._

"Like... um..." He fiddled with the book that sat in his lap. "Like in 1984-- which is sort of like this book actually-- the two main characters have an affair and they aren't really allowed to. And in The Handmaid's Tale, women's bodies are pretty much objects for reproduction so... uh... sex happens..." He could see Lance's eyes beginning to glaze over with disinterest, so he moved on to the coup de grace. "And we read Cry to Heaven which has a lot of... um... explicit gay sex in it." 

Lance quirked an eyebrow at the last part. "Explicit gay sex? They make you read that in pubic school? Man, sign me up for that class," he smirked, still nibbling on cookie numero tres and keeping his cool exterior. _Jesus, I wanna fuck him. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck...mm, cookie._

Pietro blushed even harder. "Kinda invaded my wet dreams for a few weeks..." He murmured to himself as he examined his nails self-consciously. 

"Must've been fun to read aloud round-robin in class, though," Lance snickered. "'And then the boy's cries went to heaven because his buddy's dick felt soooooo good up his ass! The end,'" Lance mimicked in a high-pitched voice, cooing the words in an irritatingly fuckable way, he hoped. _Pleeeease let him get over here before I break first, pleasepleaseplease..._

Pietro smirked at Lance's ignorant imitation. "Not quite the plot, Lance. And we don't usually read aloud in class... besides it wouldn't have been any worse than having to read aloud in Health." Pietro grimaced at the memory. "'When a male gets an erection, his penis swells with blood. During an ejaculation, semen is propelled through the vas deferens... blah, blah, blah..." 

Lance squinted in distaste. He remembered all too well the health class read-aloud, and didn't wish to dredge up the memories of himself sporting an untimely erection from peeking ahead at the "naughty" sections of the book when it was his turn to stand up at his desk and read the paragraph about menstruation, then later in the class that day, the very section Pietro'd just quoted. "You poor baby," Lance mocked lightly, smiling. "Must be hard to be a super-genius." 

Pietro nodded. "You have no idea." He then snickered nastily. "'During menstruation, a female's uterus is emptied of the lining that would otherwise nourish a fertilized egg...'

"Nothing we'll ever have to worry about," he sniggered just as acidly. "Who'd ever breed with a bunch of punks like us?" he said keeping his eyes trained on the secretary who was crawling under the manager's desk. _God, I'm gonna come in my pants if he doesn't shut up,_ Lance worried, thinking about whether he really wanted another cookie. He as feeling kind of sick, to be honest, without any milk to wash the suckers down. _Suckers! Gah!_

Pietro shrugged. "Breeding's overrated." 

"So you're saying you'll never breed? Doesn't sound like the pompous, egotistical little freakshow I know," he said, allowing himself to look at the younger boy briefly, hoping what he saw reflected in those eyes was indeed what he wanted it to be. _Sex sex sex sexsexsexsex!!_

Pietro shrugged again, feigning disinterest. "I'm planning on having all of my children come out of test tubes..." He allowed himself a wicked little half-smile. "Sex is too messy..." 

"Messy, indeed," Lance agreed, propping his legs up on the coffee table and leaning back against the support of the sofa. 

"All that liquid..." Pietro continued, watching with vague interest as the secretary proceeded to blow her boss on the television program. 

"Liquid... looks like milk…" Lance trailed off.

Pietro rolled his eyes. "God, are you still stuck on that? If you're so desperate, I'll go get you some." Except that Pietro didn't really want to move the book off of his lap, or stand, or do anything that might reveal the bulge in the crotch of his jeans. 

"Oh would you? Thanks, buddy!" Lance beamed, smiling brighter than a 160 watt bulb, freshly replaced. "There's some cash in my wallet... I think I left it in my night table." _Yeah, right next to the condoms and porn_, he thought wickedly. _Wait... next to the GAY porn! Shit!_

Pietro whirled off the couch and sped toward Lance's room, happy that super speed allowed him to get away with some things completely unnoticed. He zipped through the door to Lance's bureau, quickly liberating his wallet of five... no ten bucks... and stopped dead. Also on the dresser-top was a box of condoms... _Lubricated_, Pietro noticed giddily... and a stack of porn magazines. But these weren't Penthouse... they were actually dirtier, more low-budget... and they all featured men. With large erections. Very prominently. Pietro's eyes widened as he took the first magazine into his hands and flipped it open. 

Lance felt the gust of air breeze past him long after Pietro was already gone, too late to revoke his need for Pietro to liberate him of cash and jet to the Kwik-E-Mart for cow juice. _I'm so fucking screwed, he thought despondently, then amended his thoughts to: _No, I'd be lucky to ever, ever get screwed. There goes that. Damn it._ _

Pietro felt his breathing quicken as he scanned over the pages and pages of nude men... nude men doing amazingly hardcore and arousing things together. He stopped at the letters section and skimmed the page. _My best friend... fuck me as hard as you can!... took my big cock down his throat... god, I want you so bad... sprayed cum all over his face._ Pietro leaned back against the dresser, slightly overwhelmed. 

Lance was certain Pietro'd found the incriminating evidence, hence his not speeding out the front door and returning already. Lance sighed, covering his face with his hands and scrubbing viciously, wanting to wake up from the horrible nightmare he'd stepped unwittingly into. _Time to face the music,_ he decided bitterly. _Or gay porn and condoms, as the case may be..._

Pietro found himself tuning out the world around him and concentrating on the erotic material before him. Some of it featured extremely muscular, manly men and he bypassed that with disinterest... but other magazines were devoted solely to boys that were slim, trendy, college-aged... smooth... hard... He was so focused on these images that he didn't hear Lance's footsteps on the stairs... 

Lance choked as he entered his bedroom, seeing Pietro leaning up against the dresser, flipping through a twink magazine with a glazed look in his normally alert blue eyes. He stopped short and stared in horror as Pietro, interrupted by the choking sounds, looked up and directly at him. Lance froze. 

Pietro only found the will to draw his eyes away from the pornography when he heard a noise that sounded like someone's death rattle. Lance was staring straight at him, his face a mask of blind terror. Pietro blinked and shifted his feet slightly. "These are... yours?" He asked, knowing how incredibly stupid the question was. 

"Uh, y-- nnno.. I.." he stumbled along as such for quite some time. He foolishly looked up at one point in the senseless babbling to see Pietro peering at him curiously... a queer expression on his face. 

Pietro stared at Lance for a moment... completely lost. Finally he just looked back at the magazine he was holding. "I like them." 

"Y-you do?" he asked incredulously, taking one baby-step further into the room. "I, uh... I... which one is that?" he inquired nervously, trying (badly) to make some kind of casual small-talk. He took another baby-step. 

Pietro shrugged. "It has a lot of pictures." He stretched to hand it to Lance.

"Oh, this one..." he took the book from the delicate proffering hand, looking at it for a second and tossing it onto the unmade bed. He was suddenly painfully aware of how unkempt his living quarters were, especially compared to Pietro... who was no neat freak himself, but still... _This is bad, yo..._

Pietro swallowed. "But... Lance... why do you... um. Have these?" He watched Lance's face freeze. "Are you gay?" 

"Uh... um..." 

"God, Lance... is it really that big a deal? Just say something definite for a change!" Pietro could feel his voice rising slightly hysterically and tried to suppress the horrified giggles that were fluttering in his stomach. He crossed his arms. 

Lance stood up straight, pride steeling his spine. "Yes. I'm gay." he looked Pietro in the eyes as he said it, but as soon as he finished, his gaze immediately fell to the floor and his resolve began to crumble. _Now comes the part where he..._ Lance swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling small and pitiful. 

Pietro stared at Lance for a moment, before lightly touching Lance's arm. The other boy's head snapped up violently and he backed away as if he'd been burned. Pietro bit his lower lip. "I'm sorry..." He murmured. "I never thought..." 

Lance didn't know what to say... he never knew what the fuck to say. Especially not now! _'I never thought'... puh-leeeease!_ He scowled and pulled back sharply as that pretty little hand came down on his arm. The touch felt like fire. ...But a pleasant fire. This, he realized too late. He was backing off, and Pietro was looking guilty and... something. Lance didn't know. He didn't care. Nothing mattered now. Cover = blown. No, not that kind of blown, either. 

"What?" Pietro felt irritation edging into his voice. "What did you expect? You went around talking about 'Kitty this' and 'Kitty that'... well? How did you think the rest of us saw it?" Pietro could feel tears creeping in from behind his eyelids and fought hard with himself to keep them from spilling over. "You're so... stupid!" 

"You think this is stupid? You think I'm stupid? Well... so do I!" Lance railed at Pietro, feeling a mixture of pleasure at Pietro's slight cowering, and lust, same reason. "Fuck..." he said, sliding both hands over his hair, his bangs flopping back into his eyes, tousled and, at the same time, sexy... 

Pietro tried to pull in on himself, tried to make himself smaller. "Yeah, you are stupid!" He shouted, bracing himself with one hand on the dresser. "Because you can't look past yourself to see that you aren't the only one going through this!" 

Lance stared, mouth opening slightly but no sound emerging from his throat. He looked at Pietro. _Ooh, look who can't make eye contact NOW!_ the mean side of his brain cheered, but he quickly squashed that, and came out with a soft response: "Are you?" 

Pietro hugged himself protectively. His stomach hurt because of the tears he was holding back. _Not going to cry, not going to look dumb in front of Lance, not the right time. "Yes..." he whispered, staring hard at the floor_

Lance nodded, the nods getting more and more vigorous until he was looking disturbingly similar to a head-bobbing pigeon. "Okay, okay," he said, still nodding, "Um, we should… prolly… um... you still up for getting that milk?" he asked randomly, finally able to look directly AT Pietro due to the nothing-to-do-with-anything comment. _Woohoo!_

Pietro stared at Lance as if he'd recently arrived from a completely different planet. "What?" 

"Uh, the milk! Yeah, for the cookies..?" he said, smiling with obvious force. "We still need milk, and since you used the last of it, well... yeah!" _Real intelligent, dumbass..._

Pietro shook his head and slid to the floor, curling in on himself further. "You go..." He mumbled, pulling the ten dollars out of his pocket and tossing it at Lance's feet. "I don't want to go anywhere." 

Lance stepped forward cautiously and stooped down to pick up the crumpled bill. Still crouched down, he asked, "Ten whole bucks for a gallon of milk, Pietro?" A smile crept across his handsome features. 

Pietro shrugged and a little sniffled escaped. "Whatever..." 

Lance was touched by the pathetic snivel. It almost made Pietro more human--err, more mutant, and for sure, it made him more touchable... "Are you okay?" Lance asked him softly. 

Pietro sighed. "No. Go'way. Get'cher milk." He buried his face in his arms. 

"Why? So you can stay here and gape at my gay porno mags?" Lance teased, chuckling and suddenly sobbing at the same time. 

Pietro looked up when he heard Lance's barely-disguised sob. He felt one of his own tears trickle down his cheek and into the corner of his mouth, where he licked it away. "Lance, I--" He reached out again and touched Lance's arm; this time the other boy didn't pull away. 

"…Yeah?" Lance peered at him, the hope flaring in his eyes. 

Pietro leaned forward, keeping one hand on Lance's arm for balance, and placed a very light, tender kiss on the dark-haired boy's lips

Lance's synapses refused to connect properly, apparently. His poor, disillusioned brain was telling him that the perfect, precious little person next to him was inching closer, closer, and-- _this can't be right-- kissing? A kiss? Is he kissing me? Really kissing me?_

Lance's lack of response meant utter failure and rejection to Pietro. He pulled away quickly and began to blubber apologies through his tears. "I'm sorry... fuck, I'm so dumb... I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." 

"Wait, no, I just-- did you really just do that?" Lance asked dumbly, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "Wow..." His hand raised to his face, fingers tentatively touching his lips, refusing to believe what had just occurred. "Uh, hey... we should... try that again," he said, smiling as endearingly as he possibly could. "I'll try to be a more active participant thing time, okay?" 

Pietro stared at Lance, not entirely comprehending. "Kiss... again?" He wiped the tears hurriedly from his face. "Really?" 

_The goofy grin increases in size. Be afraid._ Lance looked at Pietro more closely. For someone who'd been crying, his eyes were still blue and clear, not ringed with a red tinge, and his complexion soft and perfect, not blotchy. _Perfect, beautiful little... thing_, he decided soundly, honing in on the soft lips again and pressing down firmly, tasting the salt from his tears as we went. 

Pietro gasped slightly as Lance kissed him. But warmth and need soon overtook his surprise and he began to kiss eagerly back. He unfolded his long legs and inched closer to Lance, hesitantly placing both arms on Lance's arms... then moving them to his chest... and finally up to his neck, where he began to toy with Lance's hair, tugging and twirling as the kiss deepened. 

Lance felt Pietro's tentative hands travel gradually up his body, coming to rest around his neck, fingers curled into his hair. Taking gentle hold of Pietro's lithe frame, he maneuvered the both of the slightly, himself sitting on the faded carpet, propped up in the corner between the wall and against the dresser, and his snowy-haired treasure settled contentedly in his lap. 

"Oh god..." Pietro sighed breathily as he settled into Lance's lap. He pushed his lips more forcefully against his longtime crush's. "Are we going to have sex?" He whispered, punctuating his question with a roll of his delicate hips. 

"We can do whatever you want," Lance agreed easily in a hushed tone, nuzzling Pietro's cheek and understanding completely that this could very well be his undoing. He had relinquished control to the gypsy the moment he'd first seen him, but only now was any of that coming into play. "What do you want to do, Pietro?" 

Pietro gave a little cry of pleasure as Lance's fingers hit a sensitive spot on his lower back. "I want..." He lowered his eyes, slightly embarrassed. "I want you to take me over to that bed... and..." He looked up to meet Lance's expectant eyes. "And I want us to fuck the way the boys in those magazines fuck." 

Lance looked at Pietro in surprise, but certainly not displeasure. "Are you sure?" he asked, the hands locked behind the waif-like youth's back, smoothing up and down his spine, gently massaging. "I'm not sure which other magazines you were looking at, but I'm sure we could find a happy medium," Lance finished upon seeing the shy nod from the fair head. "I just need to know that you know what you're asking for..."

Pietro found himself nodding enthusiastically. "I do, Lance. I really do. I know, and I want..." He felt a familiar heat travel to his cheek and closed his mouth, allowing his blush to speak for itself. He leaned back into the warmth of Lance's hands. "I do. Really."

"I think we can handle that," Lance agreed, a devilish smile creeping across his handsome features. He felt Pietro's hold tighten unconsciously, and leaned in toward those perfect lips, capturing them once again with his own, but more gently; sweetly. He caught and nipped at his lower lip, playing upon Pietro's tight-wire nerves and using the wound up emotions to his advantage. "What do you want me to touch?" he breathed against the flushed skin, punctuating his query with a searing kiss to the hollow of Pietro's white throat.

Pietro gasped at the feeling of Lance's tongue on his skin. "Anywhere..." he cried breathily. "Everywhere." His fingers tightened and he grasped the fabric of Lance's t-shirt frantically. 

Lance pushed away from the wall, and against Pietro's clothed chest to allow said boy to remove his top. The urgent pairs of lips parted only long enough to make way for the black garment's passing, the immediately pressed together, meeting in passion; bruising force. He shivered with the chill as he settled back against the cold imitation wood of the dresser, and felt Pietro cling tighter in response.

Pietro pushed himself against Lance's bare chest, running his fingertips over smooth skin and marveling at how quickly everything seemed to be changing. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Lance's ear. "Not here... please. Bed... let's go to bed." He shivered slightly, enjoying the way the words sounded. "Bed."

It aroused Lance to no end to hear his little lap-baby talking in such a way—_'To the bed'? Sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph... _even though Lance didn't particularly believe in any of them, still he was desperate for help. _Give me the strength to not ravish him the second I have a chance... _"Pietro... hold on." Lance used one arm to anchor the speedster, and the other to balance him as he stood, adoring the feel of the gypsy's legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

"You're stronger than I thought," Pietro said quietly, happily surprised by the way Lance managed to maneuver himself to a standing position with Pietro still nestled in his arms. 

"I'm hurt, Pietro," Lance tried not to chuckle, his mock-seriousness cracking almost immediately. "You didn't think I was a strong, manly-man leader?" he giggled further, reclining into a sway-back position as he stood with his pet in his arms, counter-balancing the slight weight.

"Mmm..." Pietro didn't laugh, but instead snuggled his head into the crook of Lance's neck. "Not to threaten your manhood or anything, buuuuuut..." Pietro let his statement hang in the air for a moment before deciding that he didn't want to finish it. "Look, I just didn't think you could pick me up. That's all."

"Jeez, Pietro, you didn't give me credit for a whole, whopping eighty-five pounds?" Lance teased gruffly, shifting Pietro's weight to one arm as the other threw the rumpled bedcovers to the side. He began to settle down, lover still in arms, when Pietro retorted somewhat cruelly, in Lance's opinion. 

Pietro snorted. "You're the one who whines about having to carry two books to school... I honestly didn't think you could lift anything over twenty pounds... let alone eighty-five." He paused. "Besides, I don't weigh eighty-five pounds. I weigh one hundred and five."

"On the button?" Lance pondered. "I wouldn't'a pegged you for a full 105, sexy," he said soothingly, brushing away any hostility over his comments with his talented mouth. "Twenty pounds... pssssh." He tugged at Pietro's shirt, pulling at his clothes; he was trying to keep his cool composure, and knew it showed. He stared at Pietro's dark blue eyes, and his cheeks, flushed a beautiful red. He wracked his brain for the right words... he was feeling nervous trying to be so perfect, because he knew Pietro was worth it...

Pietro moaned slightly as Lance drew him out of his shirt. "Shut up," he hissed without malice. "One hundred and five is too skinny." He took a deep breath and met Lance's eyes. The other boy was staring at him intently looking... lost? Confused? ... Scared? Pietro reached one slight hand up to touch Lance's cheek gently. "Hey..." he whispered, trailing his fingertips down Lance's cheekbone to the curve of his lips. "Hey..."

"Uh-huh," Lance said, not sure exactly what he was agreeing with... or to. "After we work all that meat off you, I can put it back on," he promised with glimmering eyes. "I can make a mean microwave dessert, y'know." He nuzzled Pietro's cheek, needing to turn only slightly to meet his lips, once, twice, then stopped, looking into the depths of azure eyes; sparkling with hope. 

"Are you an apple cobbler, or a strawberry sundae kinda guy? I'd bet you love hot, apple-y goodness right after a good fuck, don't you, Pietro?" he said, egged on by Pietro's sharp jolt upon hearing the naughty language, coming out of Lance's mouth and directed at him, and in such context.

"I... I..." Pietro faltered, aroused and flustered by the implications of Lance's question. "I don't know," he answered finally. "I guess I'll just have to try them both..." He stared at Lance for a moment and then grinned. "Unless you have anything resembling chocolate and peanut butter fudge..."

"I dunno," he answered honestly, "But we can always go out and pick something up... and get lost along the way," he added, smiling in the dim light. The sun was apparently setting away as they fooled around, meaning another gruesome possibility: Todd and Fred arriving home. "We can go get whatever you want," he promised, taking hold of one perfectly-formed cheek in each palm and pulling the narrow hips against himself. Lance could feel the tented section of denim straining as the younger boy's stiffened member grazed his naked abdomen roughly.

Pietro allowed his eyes to close as he tipped his head back against the softness of the bed. He shuddered happily as Lance's hands ran over his parted thighs and moved to undo the button and zipper on his jeans. Every click in the sudden silence of the room seemed amplified; every vibration magnified as it coursed through his body. His hands sought purchase in the folds of the blanket beneath them. 

Lance felt Pietro's hands retreat to the mattress, clutching at the sheets desperately and biting his lip; his graceful neck arched. Practiced fingers became clumsy in their task, so Lance averted his gaze from Pietro's rapt expression of pleasure to focus on his pants' fastenings, quickly seeing his problem and fixing it, shedding Pietro's second-to-last important piece of clothing and stripping him down to nothing but a pair of thin cotton boxer-briefs. One false move on Pietro's part could result in his precious package popping through the doubled-over material covering his crotch...

Pietro abruptly propelled himself upward into a sitting position, causing Lance to take a step back in surprise. This fazed Pietro not at all, as he simply hooked his forefingers into Lance's belt loops and pulled him forward. Pietro shifted so that he was kneeling in front of Lance on his long, coltish legs; he glanced up from beneath his eyelashes as he tauntingly began to lower Lance's zipper. 

Lance bolted backward at the sudden movement, bracing himself on one hand and putting the other out for balance. He watched, transfixed, as Pietro closed the scant distance between them, nestling himself between his Lance's legs and toying with the zipper, watching him through the thick veil of dark lashes. _Fuck, just the sight of him watching ME is gonna make me come_, Lance worried. He both saw and felt the zipper being undone, saw Pietro's wanton expression, teasingly licking his lips, the brief flash of pink tongue jetting out to moisten his lips driving him slowly insane... and Pietro very obviously enjoying every minute.

"Should I?" Pietro slid his fingertips between Lance's underwear and the smooth flesh of his lower stomach. "Would you like me to suck you, _Lance?" He smiled sweetly at the dumbfounded expression on Lance's face, happy that the tables had turned in his favor. "I think that I'd really like to, __Lance." Pietro noted that, whenever he said Lance's name, the older boy would shiver slightly. "I'd like to take your cock and put it in my mouth..." He said the words with pleasure, loving the way they sounded dirty and slutty coming out of his mouth and loving the various reactions that they elicited from Lance. _

"I should've known you were a dirty one in the bedroom," Lance let out shakily, displeased about losing his throne of control to the brat, but still, ohh-so pleased at the same time. "Go on, Pietro," he urged, trailing insistent yet feather-light fingers up and down his arm, "Touch it. Suck it. ...I _dare you."_

Pietro said nothing in response to Lance's taunting, instead pulling Lance's underwear down in one sharp tug. The other boy gasped and tossed his head back as Pietro smiled coyly and ran his fingertips up and down the stiff erection that bobbed tantalizingly in front of his mouth. Cautiously, he extended the tip of his tongue to taste the clear pearls of liquid that oozed out of the very tip, swirling them around his taste buds and smearing the slippery pre-come onto his lips. 

"Jesus, Pietro!" Lance yelled softly, his fingers coursing through the silken white hair compulsively as the boy latched onto his most intimate of parts, working to the best of his abilities to make him feel good. Pietro's innocent attempts at imitating what he'd just seen in Lance's dirty magazines were working a little too well... necessitating Lance's pulling away, leaving a confused and dejected speed demon to contend with.

"What's wrong?" Pietro's eyes shined up at Lance. "I thought you liked it..." One of his small, white hands rested lightly on Lance's thigh. "Was _I_ doing something wrong?" Pietro's brow furrowed as he grappled with the idea of ever doing something the wrong way.

"Oh, fuck no, Pietro, God..." Lance assured him, moaning still as he spoke. "But if you keep doing... _that, we're not gonna get very far," he explained vaguely, knowing Pietro'd catch the meaning. He smiled lazily through his pleasure-haze. "Lemme try something, here..." Lance put a firm hand on Pietro's pale chest, pushing him back against the pillow. He wished at that moment for more than one cheap, measly pillow, if for nothing else but to prop his baby up to see his face as Pietro was blown for the very first time in his young life. Lance hooked careful fingers in the elastic waistband, sliding the underwear down over his slim hips slowly, savoring the vision of each gorgeous square inch as it was revealed to his hungry gaze. He lowered his mouth to the erection peeking out tall and proud from a nest of strong silver hairs. Brushing the tip with his lips, smearing Pietro's early-stage come over his lips like Kitty Pryde no doubt spread strawberry gloss over hers (not that Lance cared, not in real life), he took only the very top of the deeply blushing head into his mouth, increasing bit by bit until the entire cherry was in his mouth, and Pietro's impatient hips were bucking off of the bed in anticipation._

As Lance's warm, wet mouth eased over Pietro's eager erection, the pale boy felt himself mewling softly as he instinctively tried to push his hips forward to receive further stimulation. One of his greedy hands tangled in Lance's hair, while the other slipped up his chest to circle one stiff nipple. Feelings of pleasure caused him to arch his back; as Lance swallowed more and more of him, an unconscious throaty cry escaped his lips. It was better than masturbation had ever been. He understood now why Lance had pulled away too quickly. Pietro could already feel it becoming too much for him. 

Lance left Pietro's throbbing penis with an audible pop. He peered at the moaning, writhing mess that was his new boyfriend (Lance giggled like a little girl inside his head at the thought) and waited for him to calm sufficiently before resuming his activities in short bursts, sucking Pietro hard, then stopping, letting his blood calm, and picking up where he left off, teasing and prolonging the pleasure for Pie and practicing for his own benefit... learning just what it took to bring the "sex kitten" to the edge and back again...

"Laaaaa-aaance," Pietro half-whined, half-moaned as Lance began another session of sexual torture. "Please..." He began to pant as he ran both his hands up over his stomach and chest and tossed his sweat-soaked bangs out of his eyes. 

"Not until I make you scream," Lance promised/threatened, engulfing the swollen appendage entirely and pulling upwards and off, sucking as if he was trying to slurp a McDonald's shake through a straw... or better yet, a frosty.  _Although I might__ consider settling for helpless moaning… oh, just like that…_

Pietro surrendered a low moan as Lance paused to lap forcefully at the head of his erection, and then uttered a sharp gasp as the forceful sucking was continued at a steady pace. "Oh God... please..." His voice was high and nasal as he pleaded with Lance, grasping the bed sheets in two tight fists. "I... I'm..." He abandoned his words for what Lance really wanted; as climax washed over his body he screamed as loudly as he could, choking back sobs as fat tears coursed down his cheeks. 

Lance wasn't quite as successful as he'd hoped to be in managing to contain and swallow the spurts of Pietro's pearly-white ejaculate, but willingly enough licked every drop from the quivering thighs beneath him. Pietro's choked scream had nearly caused him to climax himself; just the sound nearly pushed him over the edge. On shaky arms he pushed off his spot, settling back on his calves and watching Pietro. "Pietro..." he said after a moment of silence, seeing Pietro was calming. "Pietro, are you alive?" he joked mildly. "You okay?"

"Alive..." Pietro said shakily, letting out a ragged sigh as he wiped his tears away hastily, hoping Lance hadn't seen. Strong emotion had caused his chest to become very tight; he wasn't sure exactly how he felt... overwhelmed, sad, scared, alone, exhausted, contented, pleasured. But he knew that, more than anything, he just wanted to be held. Just for a minute. But he wasn't sure how to express this to Lance... or whether it was even something he should express. Feeling strangely isolated, he rolled onto his side and drew his knees up to his chest.

"But okay?" Lance asked again, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. "That was fucking beautiful, Pietro... you are fucking beautiful," he tacked on, rambling somewhat and smiling shyly even though Pietro couldn't see from his fetally-curled position. "Are you not happy with it... about this?" Lance worried, crawling closer, setting beside the introverting sprite.

Pietro shifted so that he could rest his head on Lance's shoulder. Without a word, he lifted Lance's other arm and draped it strategically across his back. He nestled into his cocoon, mindful of Lance's erection pushing against the soft flesh of his upper thigh. For once in his short life, Pietro Maximoff had absolutely nothing to say.

Lance started at Pietro's taking apparent possession of his arm, tucking it under his own and snuggling it to his chest like a small child might a stuffed animal, knuckles-to-chin. Lance settled down behind Pietro, spooning flush against his lithe frame, trying to keep his obtrusive erection away from Pietro's body but failing. Miserably. He prayed Pietro wouldn't be upset for...some...reason.

"Sorry..." Pietro finally whispered after several long minutes of quiet cuddling. He studied Lance's fingertips intently, bending them back and forth and observing the movement in the muscles. "Sorry, I just felt... I don't know." He shrugged, acutely aware that Lance was listening to every word he said. "Sometimes, after a really good... uh... orgasm... I feel really... weird. Like... sad and... scared, I guess."

"Oh... okay," Lance said, letting out the breath he'd been unconsciously holding since Pietro'd begun to speak. "Shouldn't be scared, Pie... I'm here." He shifted his arm, bending his wrist slightly and curving his palm against Pietro's; interlacing their fingers and squeezing reassuringly. "At least you admit it was 'really good,'" Lance quipped, trying to lighten the mood. He was pleased to head Pietro choke out a giggle, crushing the arm harder against himself and curling up to Lance's chest, his back warmed by the smooth, firm skin.

"I guess it's your turn now, huh?" Pietro felt a slight purr edge into his voice as he spoke; to emphasize the suggestiveness of his words, he began to move gently against Lance, allowing the curve of his bottom to move against Lance's erection, stimulating the other boy and hinting at what he wanted to do next.

Lance felt Pietro posturing against him, pressing that sweet little ass right up to his groin, knowing exactly what he was asking for... or maybe not. Lance nearly exploded on contact. "Mm, Pietro, yesssss," he murmured incoherently into the damp hair, inhaling deeply of Pietro's scent. His hand left the other buy's to rub small circles against his stomach, circling ever lower, leading back toward the strong, silvery curls that nestled the spent merchandise...

Pietro gave a little gasp as Lance touched him, brushing his fingers lazily against his stomach. But before Lance could reach his final destination, Pietro pulled away and rolled over so that he could face his new lover. He smiled at Lance's puzzled expression and licked his lips. "I want you..." His voice was vaguely sing-songy and inviting. "I want you inside of me, pushing against me..." He swallowed. "Coming inside me..."

Lance choked again upon hearing such vulgarities coming out of that innocent little mouth. "You seem to know exactly what you want, little boy," Lance said, struggling to sound seductive instead of shaky, hand continuing downward to toy with Pietro's limp prick... which wasn't all that limp anymore. It was really something else to feel another man's penis harden in your own hand, due to whatever you yourself are doing to him, and Lance furthered his ministrations to keep Pietro's body reacting in such a pleasant manner. He needed to get Pietro ready again, to make him come again; his sense of chivalry demanded nothing less. 

"Yes, I know... exactly..." As Lance touched him, massaging and stroking his growing erection, Pietro felt the words die in his throat as his nerves were ignited with pleasure. He relaxed his neck, allowing his head to sink back into the folds of the soft blanket and closed his eyes, limiting his sensual input to what he was feeling, hearing, smelling, tasting. He groaned as the mattress shifted, and Lance climbed atop him, still continuing his rhythmic touches. Lips touched his, a warm, soft tongue demanded entry and he conceded, parting his lips and reaching his arms to loop lovingly around Lance's neck. 

Lance caught the teasing tongue between gently his teeth, surprising Pietro and eliciting a fiery nail-scraping down his back. Releasing, sucking softly, soothing, Lance felt those questing hands travel farther down his back, clutching and lovingly cupping his cheeks, spreading them and he gripped tightly, keeping himself afloat in the mass of feeling Lance bestowed on him. Lance saw Pietro's closed eyelids flutter open in confusion as one arm left him, obviously startled by the loss of whatever pleasant sensation the hand had been giving. Lance rifled blindly in his bedside table, finally feeling the sharp plastic corner of the run-down tube of lube, grabbing it triumphantly and maneuvering the cap off, one-handedly squeezing a small amount of the slippery substance onto his fingertips and pushing the bottle away. He slipped the coated hand down beneath one of the shapely legs hooked around his waist, feeling tentatively for the small, puckered opening.

Pietro tried to relax as he felt Lance's hand delve between his legs; he knew what was coming and he tried to tell himself that he was absolutely prepared for it. Then, as one of Lance's cool, lubricated fingertips slipped inside of him, he realized there was absolutely _no way_ to be prepared for that feeling. He cried out in surprise as he was invaded and was dismayed to feel Lance stop in concern.

"Oh fuck, are you okay? Did that hurt you?" Lance asked hurriedly, his finger retreating so quickly Pietro gasped again. He peered into the nervous blue eyes, opened wide in shock. "Pietro, are you okay? Fucking answer me!"

Pietro furrowed his brow in annoyance. "No, it didn't hurt. Just felt... a little... weird." He shifted his hips slightly in effort to make Lance continue. "Keep going. Just... just slowly, okay?" He kissed Lance on the nose. "Thank you for caring, though..."

Lance smiled a wide, goofy grin upon being kissed on the nose. "Good to know, because I already thought I was going too slow for the speed freak himself," Lance replied, reassured. "Just tell me if anything feels... bad, or weird, okay, yo?" _Fuck, I sound like Todd!_ He ignored that fact and ventured down south for the second time, only inserting a half inch of his finger and testing the barrier, shallowly finger-fucking Pietro's perfect little entrance, going a bit deeper each time. When Pietro seemed content with the movement, bucking against his hand somewhat, even, Lance attempted another finger... then one more.

Pietro was about to make a witty retort about Todd's speech patterns rubbing off on Lance when he felt a second finger enter his body, stretching him... He gave a small moan of appreciation and tightened his grip on Lance's shoulders. It felt very, _very_ odd... but it felt good at the same time. He bucked his hips to meet Lance's hands, and was pleased by the sound of Lance's tiny intake of air. Panic? Fear? Amazement? Lust? Pietro chuckled inside his head and wondered what interesting thoughts were running through Lance's mind. As he felt a third finger being pushed gently inside him, Pietro sighed and stretched backward, lithe and catlike, opening his legs further to give Lance greater access. 

Lance was in love with the experience, feeling Pietro's legs widening around him, for him, granting him passage no one else had ever had... or ever _would_ have. Soon, very soon, he'd be staking his claim, permanently... Pietro rode his hand, humping the jellied digits with shameless abandon. He was fucking gorgeous, and he knew it. Lance's personal porn starlet... _fuck_ yes. 

Pietro parted his lips slightly and took a deep breath, still trying to adjust to the idea of having another person inside of him. He ventured his tongue out of his mouth and moistened his lips. As his eyelids fluttered, he realized that Lance was watching him... was watching the show Pietro was inadvertently putting on. This slight epiphany made Pietro smile wickedly to himself. He loved to be watched and he thrived on attention... so naturally the idea of showcasing his body and its reactions to his lover was one that appealed immensely to him. "Ooh... Lance..." He murmured quietly, thrusting his thin hips back and forth against Lance's hand. "I'm ready. Please... I want... I want..." He tipped his head back and gasped as one of Lance's fingertips brushed something inside of him that caused a jolt of intense pleasure to be delivered to his brain. "_Christ._"

"I think we can do better'n Christ, Pie... ever been fucked by a god?" Lance asked jokingly as Pietro keened, keeping his finger on the spot he'd been searching for, slowly circling the area with the tips of his fingers. Pietro moaned incoherently, but it was obvious what he was after. Lance applied more pressure to the spot, memorizing its specific location inside Pietro, then withdrew slowly, seeing Pietro's body sink downward like a boneless mass of flesh. He allowed Pietro a short recovery time as he globbed a blob of cream onto his erection. By this time, it was absolutely aching to be touched. He steadied himself just outside Pietro's entrance, positioning, and in one quick but careful thrust of his hips, sank deep within the body of his sex kitten.

Pietro gave a short shriek as Lance penetrated him... which quickly because a low moan as the feelings of being completely filled washed over him. His breaths turned to heavy pants as Lance pulled his hips slowly away from Pietro's and abruptly jammed them back together. Unable to stop himself, Pietro let one hand travel to his needy erection, while the other moved to his mouth, where he licked it, and then to his left nipple to swirl slippery saliva around the tiny nub. He closed his eyes, in a heaven that had absolutely nothing to do with what was in the Bible.

Lance strained himself not to explode inside Pietro at the sight of the wanton little gypsy servicing himself without regrets while Lance did the same. He felt occasional brushes of his quick-flicking wrist on his lower abdomen as Pietro jerked at his tool when they happened to be in the same place at the same time. He watched the fingers enter his mouth, withdrawn slowly, settling on his chest to toy with his own nipples, using every available resource without a care in the world. The pale hand slid over to give the other teat the same undivided attention, and Lance replaced the hand on the abandoned bud with his mouth. Their bodies collided harmoniously, rhythms perfectly matched. Opposites attract...

Pietro gave a kitten's cry as Lance's mouth sealed over the tip of his nipple. He sighed as he felt a warm tongue lap delicately at his skin, and moved his free hand to tangle in Lance's hair. As their hips met, Pietro felt the familiar spark of intense pleasure and began to thrust upward with a renewed enthusiasm; the change in Lance's position was allowing him to reach that elusive, wonderful spot with every... single... stroke. Pietro groaned in acquiescence as he craned his neck so that his mouth could reach Lance's ear. "Oh, god... don't stop, don't stop... I'm going to come... don't stop, don't stop..." He repeated it frantically as if it was a new mantra. "Don't... stop..."

            Lance never was a particularly obedient fellow. He slowed to that dreaded stop, squeezing his eyes shut at the feel of angry hands battering at him. He ignored Pietro's furious, demanding babbling and concentrated instead on tugging the long legs up over his shoulders. He already knew how flexible Pietro was simply from everyday "use," if one could call it such, and intended to use it every bit to his advantage. Ensuring the limbs were safe and securely arranged on each side of his neck, he thrust into Pietro again, smirking with delight at the unleashed howl of pleasure carried through the house. 

Pietro wild yell of surprise and gratification echoed through the house as it trailed into a string of inane rambling as Pietro tossed his head wildly back and forth. "IhatehatehateHATEyouaresodeadwhenthisisoverIloveyoupleaseneverstopohgod_lovelovelovelove-ahh!_" Before Lance could stop, slow down, change direction, or do anything in general, Pietro's entire body had stiffened and Lance felt something warm and sticky between their joined bodies. 

A wild string of incoherent (but decidedly appreciative) babbling later, Lance was rewarded with the telltale squishing, sticking noises as they moved together, warming his belly and signaling Pietro's finish. _Thank god_, Lance murmured, heaving himself into Pietro a few more furious times and spilling his essence inside his honey, almost lacking the strength to remain poised over him to avoid Pietro-squishing. He was planning to lower the lean legs locked behind his neck and leave Pietro be, to allow him to cool down, but a pair of slender arms intended otherwise. Pietro reached behind his head, pulling Lance down for a searing kiss, his trim frame folded entirely in half. 

Pietro's limbs felt heavy, his entire body tingled, the tears were edging back from behind his eyes, not even asking if they had permission to spill down his cheeks and make him look like a wimp el grande... but he was happy. He was amazingly, startlingly happy as he pulled Lance toward him and kissed him as hard as he could, afraid to let go, afraid to stop... When the time eventually came, it was Lance who pulled away first.

"That can't be comfortable," Lance insisted, unhooking one leg at a time and laying Pietro down, slowly, in one piece. He pulled out of Pietro slowly as well, almost... guilty when he saw the look on the youngster's face. He was frightened to see Pietro crying, thinking that _this_ time, he'd gone and done it for real -- made him cry; hurt him. He ran a hand through his damp hair, temporarily removing the unruly locks from his face. The moment his hand left, the strands returned to their previous places, obscuring his eyes. He lay down beside Pietro, who was sobbing still, and collected him into his arms. "Love you," he revealed, tucking the fair head under his chin and folding the body into his strong embrace. 

Pietro sighed contentedly into Lance's chest, nuzzling his head against the smooth skin and trying to ignore the little hiccupping noises his involuntary sobs made. "I... love you... too." He sniffed, attempting to regain a small part of his dignity, which was currently burrowing its way under the covers and making a beeline for the door. And then Pietro stopped. _Wait... love? Did I just say...? And did I mean it? _Confused, he lifted his head and looked up, straight into Lance's concerned brown eyes. For a moment he stayed that way, not blinking, until he felt one of Lance's fingertips trace the line of his jaw... and he heard the older boy's low voice asking if he was all right. "Yes..." Pietro smiled, even as another slipped down his cheek to his chin. "Yes, I'm... yes." He closed his eyes and brought his lips to Lance's, softly and hesitantly.

Lance leaned into the kiss, aroused again by the feel of Pietro's leg rising to hook around his waistline again, tightening and trapping him as the white arms encompassed his torso. Back to back, then belly to belly, Lance didn't give a damn because he was stoned out of his mind on the love drug... He was too spent to go another round, no matter how suggestively Pietro ground himself into Lance's package. "Later," Lance promised, kissing the pout that formed on his lover's face... that gorgeous face. God, he wished he had the strength to fuck him again. But, as he'd said... later. Always time for that later. "Hungry?" he asked. "There's still a plate full of cookies downstairs... and a gallon of milk at the Kwik-E-Mart with your name on it."

Pietro groaned and whapped him with the pillow, bringing the cushy projectile to cover his face and his moan as he stretched out luxuriously in Lance's bed; in his arms.  

Life was good.


End file.
